After we finish eating, Goal and I sit by the fire. "If it doesn't die out on its own, we'll just put it out before it gets dark," he says.
"Okay," I reply.
What we're in engaged in now – basically, sitting around and doing nothing – is generally a bad idea in the arena. You always have to think about how what you're doing is going to look to an audience. But I can't help it. I need this session of nothingness badly. Sure, I've slept, but there's another kind of fatigue that comes over you in the Games, that exhaustion of constant anxiety. Just resting here with Goal is almost like hanging out with an old friend; it resembles real life. Aside from obviously wanting to survive, the second thing you want in the arena is to somehow forget you're there, and it's so nice to be able to do that, even if just for a moment.
After a pleasant period of silence, Goal says, "Things have been uneventful the last couple of days, haven't they?"
Great minds think alike. "I was just thinking that."
Goal lowers his voice. "It kind of makes me nervous. When nobody has died in a while, don't the Gamemakers like to… do something about it?"
"Look, let's not think about it. It's not worth it to scare ourselves," I suggest. Frankly, it would be a pretty easy subject to talk about. Imagining the horrors that the Gamemakers could unleash on us and reviewing the ones they've gone for in years past have certainly been occupying my mind a lot lately. But I don't want to discuss my fears with Goal. If we're going to talk, couldn't it be about something other than the arena?
Goal keeps glancing upward. Maybe he's remembering the hail that fell early on in the Games. The purpose of that was to get tributes out of hiding in the forest, but now Goal and I are out in the open. Although… I wonder how many other people in here actually know this grassland exists. I only bothered coming out here the first time when I thought my death was more or less assured, and I'm only brave enough to be here now with Goal by my side. If not for those, maybe I really would have just stayed in the forest ring as long as possible. And then…
What was that?
I hear an odd noise, like paper tearing, but much lower. A slight vibration ascends through my body.
Goal's eyes widen. "Get up," he says, and then yells: "Get up!"
I jump to my feet as the ground rips apart below me. It's an earthquake of enormous proportions. The land below is me is breaking, producing horrible loud sounds of dirt and gravel rearranging themselves, and more vibrations, now overpowering and nauseating, began rippling through me. I think I might be screaming. I have enough sense to pick up my belongings, and then I'm grabbing onto Goal or he's grabbing me and we're running.
I allow myself the luxury of looking behind us and see exactly what we're getting away from: the grassland is no longer the plain it was before, but now looks more like a canyon with pointed, unfriendly ridges. The motion hasn't stopped, though. As I'm sprinting, gripping my bag in one hand and Goal's arm in the other, the earth below me is continuing to pulsate.
I've been terrified up till now, but the moment of true horror comes when I feel my right foot hit not flat earth, but a ridge. And then it happens. I'm sliding downward. If I weren't screaming before, I certainly am now. I try to grab onto the ridge, and manage to get one hand up. Goal is yelling my name, and dust is filling the air, covering my face. I have no choice but to shut my eyes, but they are already filled with debris and aching. I know at once I'm going to die here, this time for sure, but I've got to get these supplies to Goal. Can't let them fall down here with me. With all the force I have left, I toss the bag as far as I can, hoping that against all odds, it has flown over the edge of this pit I'm in and somehow magically landed at Goal's feet.
I don't think any inch of my body isn't in pain. With no remaining strength, I can't hold onto the ridge any longer. My face is partially buried in the dirt as I'm moving slowly downward. I can still barely breathe, but it feels like everything else is shutting down. When I feel a sharp pain in the left side of my head, it must be because I've inhaled too much of this dust. I open my eyes, but the whole world is now dark. I shut them again.
My first vision is blurry and green. Is this it? Have I gone to some verdant afterlife? I need to see. I reach my hands up to rub my eyes, but a boy says, "Don't." It's someone I know. It's Goal.
"I made it?" I hear myself ask. My voice sounds frightening, scratchy and hoarse and wheezy. It feels just as bad.
"They aren't ready to kill you. Not yet." Goal's voice is soft. "It's like we thought. They didn't want us to get too comfortable. Or they wanted to draw us back inward."
I feel his fingers on my face, holding my eyes open. Liquid drips into them, creating a pleasant cooling sensation and slightly sharpening my sight. Things are still fuzzy, but I can figure out that we're back in the forest near a collection of electric turquoise trees. Goal is sitting and looking down at me, holding a tiny white bottle. "You saved me," I croak out.
"I can't believe you did that," he says. "Why did you risk your life by throwing me the backpack?"
Two more drops fall into my eyes, and I can see even more clearly. Goal's face shows signs of injury; there's bruising on his cheeks and jaw and a dried wound under his eye. "You know why," I answer. He doesn't reply, and we remain in silence for several minutes. Soon, I can see pretty much normally. Goal is sitting against a tree, both our backpacks at his feet. He's still holding the little bottle whose contents helped my eyes. No doubt this must have been a sponsorship. Same as before: an item given to Goal to heal me. Thank you, Ivy. Couldn't be anyone else. I remember the drops Atia used to make my irises sparkle and decide that I'd rather have this type any day.
I manage to hoist myself into sitting position and Goal passes me my canteen. This soothes my throat slightly, but it still aches just to breathe. Perhaps my lungs have been permanently damaged. Speaking isn't exactly pleasant either, but it's a necessity. "What happened?"
Goal sighs. "Well, the grassy area and part of the sandy area are now full of cracks and pointy mounds. You fell down the side of one and hit your head on a rock. I managed to get hold of you under your arms and pull you back up." He sighs. "I managed to get you just to the edge of the forest, and then everything stopped moving."
"Thank you," I tell him.
He looks at me sternly. "Seeder, you shouldn't have thrown me the backpack. You should've let go of it so you could keep your grip on the cliff."
I don't know what to tell him other than the truth. "I was certain I was going to die. I thought it'd be better for you to have the supplies." I know Goal isn't really mad at me. He's just scared. How could he not be, after what just happened? And if the roles were switched, I know I'd be saying the same thing.
Goal pushes some damp hair off his forehead. "I just want you to always value your life over any supply, OK? We can always get more water and food somewhere. But you only have one life."
Well. He's not wrong. "OK," I agree. "You're right."
"Good."
"So, about these drops you've been giving me. I don't suppose you just found that bottle foraging in the woods, right?"
Goal tries to hold his serious expression but eventually a smile breaks though. "Yeah, no, not quite. Another gift from your mentors. Came in while you were starting to wake up." Then he looks concerned again. "But I'm worried about your throat and your breathing. They didn't send anything for that. And you inhaled a lot of the dust."
"Maybe it'll… heal by itself," I say. Of course, it sounds so totally ridiculous as it comes out of my mouth in my scratchy voice, but I want to believe it. Goal gives me my canteen and the water soothes my throat somewhat, and my chest really only aches when I try to take a deep breath. I'll be able to walk, and maybe even jog, but I am fairly certain I won't be capable of running anytime in the near future. On the bright side, my eyes have returned to normal and don't hurt in the slightest. Most probably, there was only enough sponsorship money to cover one of the two kinds of medicine – either the eye drops or something for my lungs – and my mentors had the good sense to go with the drops. Not being able to run does indeed lower my chances of survival, but being blind would have set them at zero.
I find I can push myself to my feet, and I look back at where the earthquake took place. Before, the grassland wasn't really visible from the forest, but now I can make out the sharp peaks far in the distance. I have a strange urge to go back, to see exactly where I almost died, what I would have fallen into, where my body would've been found. I don't share this with Goal, though. Don't want him to think my mind was damaged along with my lungs.
We're on the move again, but much slower. We have to be, because of my injured status, but also there's the fact that it's smart to be on guard now. Goal is correct; the earthquake wasn't meant to kill us – its purpose was to get us away from where we were and bring us back into the forest. When the tributes are too spread out across the arena and no violence is impending, you can always count on the Gamemakers to do something about it. So there very well could be another tribute in the nearby vicinity.
Something occurs to me. What if Goal and I were to meet up with the remaining Careers? The girls from 2 and 4 are still alive. Goal said they all got separated, though, right? So they probably aren't together? If one of them came across us, what would happen? Would she join our alliance? Attack us? Would Goal be able to kill his own former ally? Or would it be left to me?
When we pass by a tree with black bark, I at first think it's one of the dyed ones, but then I realize that it's actually a persimmon tree. I'm able to climb it by myself, with Goal standing guard, and collect a bunch. This time, Goal does not question what I've given him.
"Why don't we make camp here?" Goal proposes. "It's a good idea to stay near the food, and you need to rest anyway."
Sounds reasonable to me. I feel terrible. Yes, my belly is full and I'm glad Goal is with me, but I am worn out and in pain. My ally is right that I need to rest, and all the exhaustion I have felt, from dealing with Golden's nuttiness to the constant pressure to look good and now, within the arena, fighting to survive against injury and environmental attacks… all that exhaustion seems to concentrate here in this moment. But it's not sleep I need – it's to be out of here, and that isn't an option.
I almost have to physically force Goal to go to sleep and let me take the first watch. He protests that I'm injured, that I'm in no condition to fight. And yes, I can concede that I'm not the best possible guard right now, but I also know he desperately needs a break, whether he'll admit it or not. I'm better than nothing, anyway.
While Goal is asleep, I climb back into the persimmon tree, not to collect more fruit but even higher, until I'm as far up as I think I can safely get. Doing this with my compromised lungs takes longer than it should, but I make it to the top. Unfortunately, there isn't much to see – mostly just other treetops, although I now have a better view of the newly-formed canyons where the grassland used to be. Better that than a fire for us to run away from. What happened to the animals out there? Might there still be game to be hunted? Scaling the smaller peaks could be feasible.
I let my ally wake up on his own and then settle into sleep myself. It feels like very little time has passed when I'm jolted back awake by the sound of a horrible scream. I leap to my feet. That scream came from someone female, and it sure wasn't me. I spot two figures in the distance and cautiously make my way over, moving slowly and keeping behind trees to avoid being seen. But when I get there, I discover there was nothing to be worried about. It's Goal and the slumped corpse of a tribute with several arrows protruding from her chest. A throwing axe lies beside her hand.
Goal whirls to look in my direction, his crossbow still aimed. He relaxes upon recognizing me. "It's the girl from 7," is all he says as the cannon sound is played to announce her death.
I nod, now wide awake. It's truly lucky that this girl arrived while Goal was on watch and not me. I've been incredibly naïve, haven't I? Thinking I could just sit around with Goal and wait things out. The things that occurred today – the earthquake and this attack – they aren't going to stop. My face tightens. Time to face death again. I approach the girl's corpse and remove her backpack, then grab the axe from the ground, too. "Let's go," I tell Goal, my voice surprisingly clear.
We retreat back into the forest, and the hovercraft comes to pick up the girl's body. In her bag, I find some segments of pine bark and a decent amount of nuts, which had proven a source of food for me early on, too. Nothing else. I add the food to my own collection, and I'll hang on to the axe, too. Now I have that as well as the knife I got from the District 5 boy. The two weapons are of similar size, and used together, they could be a decent stand-in for the throwing knives I tried out in the Training Center. "I'm going to practice with these tomorrow," I tell Goal. "It's time to get serious."
